"Transmitting From What’s Left of the Continental Sector"
Est. 1903 / Died Screaming / Back on Air
"If you're reading this, you're either late for the meeting or already ash."
BROADCASTER’S NOTE:
I'm the former Operator of the Western Tower before it grew legs and ran east. I now reside in the husk of a luxury train that derailed mid-coup and haven't slept since the Siege of 1929 (which has not happened yet).
I collect emergency sirens, failed revolutions, and cursed radios that only receive signals from my enemies’ dreams.
Favorite pastime: reorganizing my war medals alphabetically by regret.
If you are a government agent, I’ve already eaten your shadow.
If you are not a government agent, I am available for cards, sabotage, or soup.
TO CONTACT THE BROADCASTER:
Scream into a tin can and throw it at the sun.
For less urgent matters, carve a message into the bark of the oldest tree in your county.
For immediate response, shuffle a deck of cards, draw three, and interpret them wrong.